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“I don’t know, Ivy. Maybe because I bent you over your desk back in California and fucked you until you screamed my name?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “And not only that, but we’ve been sexting and having phone sex ever since? I figured we may be at a point where you thought that needed to stop.”
“Do you want it to stop?” she asks, her voice dropping lower as she leans forward and rests her hands on the sides of my chair. It puts me right at eye level with her chest, and I can’t help but look again. My cock is stirring in my pants, all the blood in my body rushing south as she bites her lip and smiles.
“I don’t want it to stop,” she continues. “Actually, I think I’d like to step it up a notch.”
Slowly, she puts one knee on one side of my thighs and then the other until her warm center is pressed against the crotch of my pants. She runs her hands through my hair and roughly pulls on it, forcing my head up to look at her.
“I think I’d like you to fuck me again.” She kisses me. “And again.” She bites my lip. “And again,” she whispers.
My hands go to her hips, and I squeeze them hard, pulling her tighter against me. Her hips move, grinding against my own and giving my now very hard cock the attention it wants. She moans into my mouth, and I let my hands roam her body, moving up and over her waist until they reach her tits. My thumbs graze her nipples, and she sighs into me, holding my face tightly against hers.
“I don’t know how good of an idea this is,” I tell her when she lets me come up for air. “What if someone finds out? What if we get caught?”
“We’ll just have to be smart about it,” she says with a smile. A smile that speaks all kinds of promises. “No fucking in the office unless it’s empty. No meeting out in public.” She kisses me. “No messages through the work chat or email.”
She kisses me again, harder this time. It feels like she’s sucking my soul from my body, and I’m too happy to let her. Our tongues play together, and our teeth clash while her hips continue to rub against me.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath when she finally peels herself off me. “Okay, yeah. Sounds great.”
I can hear myself sounding like a fucking idiot. But she does that to me. When I’m in her presence, I go from my normal, confident, emotionless self to a teenage boy just waiting to do whatever she tells me to do.
“Good.” She smiles and climbs off my lap, adjusting her dress back into place and smoothing out her hair. Walking back around her desk, she sits back in her chair and begins typing.
I sit there for a moment, not sure what I’m supposed to do now. And after a couple of minutes, she looks back to me like she’s surprised I’m still here.
“You can go now, Greg,” she says. “I expect the Harlowe account on my desk within the hour.”
“I—uh, okay. Yes, ma’am,” I stutter as I stand and tuck my raging boner into my waistband. She laughs softly as she watches me get my flustered self together. When I go to open her office door and leave, she stops me one last time.
“And I expect you at my place tonight,” she tells me, typing again on her computer. “Midnight.”
I nod and leave the room.
What the fuck just happened?
CHAPTERONE
One year later…
My ass is dragging.
I was supposed to catch an evening flight out of LAX last night, but because there were storms in Nashville, I wasn’t able to board until after midnight. That means that I have been awake for over twenty-four hours, and while I would love to go straight up to my room and go to sleep, I can’t. I have fucking meetings to attend.
Grabbing an Uber from BNA, I quickly tell them I’m taking a power nap and slink down into my seat. I cover my eyes and pray for sleep, but the constant jostling of the car keeps me away and almost makes me nauseated. So much for that idea.
“We’re here,” she says as we pull up to the Four Seasons. “Sorry if that traffic kept you awake. It’s always busy here anymore.”
I try to smile politely as I thank her, but I’m not sure how kind the gesture looked. I haven’t seen myself in a mirror yet, but I know I must look rough. I didn’t have time for a haircut before I left, meaning my hair is longer than it normally is. That paired with dark circles from no sleep and wrinkly clothes from too long in an airport…I’m sure I look a fucking wreck.
It’ll be a miracle if the Four Seasons doesn’t run me away from scaring all the other wealthy guests.
My check-in was last night, so thankfully, it doesn’t matter that I’m showing up here at—I check the time—Christ, it’s 7:00 a.m. I have all of thirty minutes before the first meeting starts. Thank god it’s in this hotel. Should give me enough time to shower.
“Greg Ellis,” I tell the young lady at the front desk. “I was supposed to check in last night, but the storms delayed the flight.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile.
“So sorry about that, Mr. Ellis. Luckily, you are staying in the Four Seasons.” She leans forward like she’s sharing a secret. “The best rooms, the most comfortable beds, and phenomenal room service. You’ll be feeling better in no time.”
